


Three Questions

by AgentScullyFBI



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Drunk Rey (Star Wars), Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, POV Ben Solo, POV Kylo Ren, POV Leia Organa, POV Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron is a Good Friend, Rey Needs A Hug, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentScullyFBI/pseuds/AgentScullyFBI
Summary: Several months have passed since Kylo Ren killed Snoke and then ascended to the role of Supreme Leader. The Force has begun to connect them again and much to Rey's confusion, he begins asking her the same three questions. As they become closer, Rey discovers that the inquires are loaded and that it's true what they say...no one's ever really gone.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	1. I don't feel it till it hurts sometimes

54 ABY - Outer Rim Territories

_She stared out the window of the viewport at the dark and foreboding expanse of space. She was tired and hungry but they had good intel and if someone was giving up this kind of information for mere credits, then she knew they wouldn’t be the only ones on their way to retrieve such an artifact. Just as she started to get lost in her thoughts when a throat cleared next to her._

_“You know...we could always contact-”_

_“Don’t even say it.” Her finger raised instinctively in her co-pilots face._

_“Okay okay fine. Just...consider what we’re after here and where we’re going. I know you don’t like to involve him in any of this but we’re in the outer rim, Hradreek is dense and unpredictable and our last supply run wasn’t exactly a success.”_

_She hoped that her responding sigh and eye roll was enough to tell her co-pilot that she would not be considering the idea._

_“All i’m saying is that he might know something useful about the specific location or even….”_

_The words trailed off and at that she turned in the pilot’s seat, rarely hearing her chatty co-pilot and companion at a loss for words._

_“Or even what....?”_

_Suddenly fingers were being laced through hers, the familiar calming sensation settling, and as much as she hated to hear it, there was truth to the answer._

_“It’s dark stuff. I mean, we’re in the reaches, heading for a jungle planet and it’s a Sith sword. I just worry about you."_

_Her co-pilot didn’t go into any further detail. They both knew. The end of that thought is something they’d each rather not acknowledge out loud._

_The dark side. It calls to her. She’s always known this. And just maybe he’s the only one who can really understand._

_But she’s strong and can handle this on her own she tells herself. Plus she has very good reason for not involving him in any of it. Ever._

_She let out a huff and unlatches her straps._

_“I’m going to get some sleep. Let me know when we’re close to breaking atmo.” And with that she strode off through the corridor of the Millenium Falcon._

________________

Rey has no idea why he started to ask these particular three questions. Why they always come in the same succession and why, for the most part, it’s all he ever seems to really want to know. 

The times they connected before the incident in throne room, were a mixture of him lashing out or inquiring about the dynamics of a bond she was in a far less likely position to understand than he, with his decades of knowledge in the Force. 

The first time she sees him after he kills Snoke, he asks all three. She is lying in her bunk, curled in on herself and trying to fall into some semblance of rest while the hours tick by and no relief from her weariness comes.

She feels him rather than sees him.  
Her eyes open drearily and he is leaning up against her wall, the wall of the captains quarters of the Millenium Falcon. He looks tired. He has dark circles under his eyes and makes no effort to move. 

She stays curled on her side glaring up at him. She can’t help but wonder if there is some significant reason for his being here now, in this place, after all this time of silence. She assumes the Force has its reasons but she can’t seem to make herself care when she’s just so tired. Bone tired. Tired in a way that she has never felt before.

On Jakku she would wake before the dawn and work her body to near brokenness. Often collapsing at the end of the day with no memory of lying down. That was a feeling of fatigue that she will never forget. 

But this new tired she feels is so different. She feels it in her soul. She’ll never go back to Jakku but for the first time she doesn’t think about or care where she goes next. She failed. And she’ll carry that failure with her everytime she opens her eyes. Every time she hears of a new tyrannical plot set forth by the new Supreme Leader. Every time she looks in Leia’s equally sad, equally tired eyes. The only thing worse than carrying this weight is that the ghost of her failure haunts her. Literally. 

Ben. 

No. Not Ben.

Kylo Ren.

They haven’t seen each other since she dragged his unconscious body away from a flaming tapestry, returned his lightsaber to his belt and left him in the room where she last felt alive.

He quietly shuffles his feet but otherwise makes no effort to move. He is wearing his usual black robes and boots but now dons a cape as well. Her traitorous mind assesses how handsome he looks in it before scolding herself. She’s about to roll over, content to ignore him until he fades. She simply cannot speak, think or feel anything tonight. She barely manages to carry on single sentence pleasantries with Finn and Poe. And those are just enough to keep them from seeking her out and trying to pry deeper. She is certainly not capable of doing this with Ben right now. 

So it’s settled she decides. She gives him one last hard look and rolls to face the wall. After a few minutes she hears what she can only surmise is him sliding down the wall to sit, apparently willing enough to also let this bond fade out.

She briefly wonders if he is as miserable as she is but quickly lets the thought float past because she is entirely unsure of what answer she would even begin to hope for. The one that proves he is miserable after having made his decision that didn’t include her. Or if he is happy to have all the power he so badly wanted only to use it to oppress and destroy things. She really isn’t sure which is worse. She’s cut off from her musings when he clears his throat. 

“Are you eating?” His voice is deep and throaty and sounds as if he hasn’t spoken aloud for some time. It lifts just at the end as if he is as surprised to hear it as she is. 

She blinks for a moment and wonders if something has changed within the parameters of their bond. Maybe he can’t see her after all anymore. Maybe he just senses her presence now and wonders aloud if she is in the dining hall of the rebel base. 

When he speaks again it’s timid and she realizes what he means. “I haven’t been eating.”

Ah, so he is miserable. Miserable and looking to commiserate. And apparently unable to bring himself to eat. Well good she thinks petulantly. She knows she should hold still and quiet her breathing until the bond closes like one would if they encountered a dangerous animal planetside. Wait until it stalks off and you’re alone once again, safe from the wild thing for a short time.

But he has a way about him. One that causes a reaction in her that is so involuntary, she has accepted that she’ll never understand it. So instead of carefully constructed quiet, she seethes.

She flips over to glare at him. “What makes you think I care if you’re eating?”

“I know you don’t care if I’m eating. I am asking if you are eating.” He’s calm in a way that angers her even more.

“Well I am.” She spits. What is this thing that compels her to answer him, she wonders. She blames the Force and curses it knowing full well that she can and should get herself back under control and roll back over to play dead.

But before she can do so he’s already on to his second question. 

“Are you sleeping?” His voice is level and firm despite the fact that he looks as bone weary as she feels.

Maybe it’s the fact that he’s here at all. Maybe it’s that he won’t meet her anger with his own and give her the fight she obviously wants. Maybe somewhere buried deep down she is hurt that she apparently wasn’t enough for him. Whatever it is sends her over the edge. 

Despite knowing how he means it, her voice raises to a shout. “Obviously i’m not sleeping. I’m participating in your interrogation you…..you nerfherder!”

There’s a deafening silence in the room for a full minute. And then...he smirks. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly into an actual smile before letting out a quiet laugh. It is so jarring that she momentarily freezes in place, half laying, half leaning on her arms towards him ready to pounce. She wanted to cut him with her words and make him feel as badly as she does. But instead, he’s laughing.

She realizes that she is stunned to hear it. She’s never heard this sound before from him. 

Right after Crait, everything hurt so badly for months. And then it morphed into a rage and a deep well of sadness that she has never experienced in her life. This came as a shock to her because finding out that her parents were never coming back for her should have been the saddest moment of her life. 

But leaving Ben on the Supremacy, failing Leia, knowing that Han died for nothing….it was all just too much. 

And now she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she has cycled through every conceivable emotion over the last three months and the only thing left to experience at this hour is hysteria. That must be it. She’s hysterical. 

That’s how she finds herself laughing right along with him. She lets out a huff and chuckles at the Supreme Leader, ruler of the known Galaxy. Their eyes meet. 

She's tired. Gods, she's so fucking tired. She remembers herself and manages to suppress the deeply familiar feeling of rightness that has just come from seeing him smile. She frowns. She lowers her gaze to her scratchy blanket, unwilling to further this budding connection. Suddenly he is crouched down next to her bedside.

“Rey.” He lowers his head slightly to pull her gaze up and meet her line of sight. She can feel the tears streaming down her face now. She’s cracking open. 

When she finally meets his eyes he asks. “Are you safe?” 

She shouldn’t answer him. What business is it of his? And more importantly, he is currently the most dangerous person in the Galaxy to her.

But none of this matters and she knows it. 

She blinks a few more tears and averts her eyes from his.

“Yes. I’m safe.”

He lets out a huge breath as if he were emptying his lungs. If she weren’t mistaken she’d say he was really nervous to hear her answer. 

He is still crouching in front of her and silence lingers between them for a long time while he studies her. She finally realizes that he isn’t going to say anything more. And she wants desperately to feel any kind of reprieve from this exhaustion so she tells him the truth. 

“I don’t sleep though.” She says looking at him again. “I haven’t been able to sleep in months.”

She lays back down on her side, feeling lighter from having just told someone she’s not okay. He takes her in for a minute and his face softens. He stands up and stares down at her as if he’s trying to make a decision. 

She fights the foreign warm feeling that’s settling in her that tells her it’s nice to have someone here. Even if that someone is her enemy, someone she is supposed to kill. 

Without thinking she reaches up from her bed to take his hand which hangs by his side.

“Stay.” She whispers. He doesn’t seem to hesitate for even a moment before sinking back down to the floor next to where she is lying. This time he sits all the way down, leaning his back on her bed. Their fingers are still very loosely intertwined. One of his legs lays flat on the floor and the other comes up so he can rest his arm on his knee. 

“I can’t fight with you right now.” She mutters.

“Okay.” He replies quietly. 

She can feel her eyes starting to drift shut. “And we’re not talking about what happened.”

“I know.” He replies obediently. She feels his hand squeeze hers. His head falls back onto the mattress and his eyes close.

She opens her eyes a few more times and each time she sees his dark hair falling around his face and feels the warmth radiate off him from being so close. It sends that feeling through her again and again. The one she can’t quite put a name to. But it’s familiar and not at all terrible. 

She’ll hate him tomorrow she decides. 

Rey does not remember falling asleep but when she wakes, he’s gone. 

When she wakes again, it’s morning and she notes that it’s the first full night’s sleep she’s gotten in months.


	2. There ain't a language for the things I feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some problems that only Corellian whiskey can solve.

It’s been weeks since she’s seen him. Since she fell asleep to the sound of steady breathing. And more importantly, it’s been around the same amount of time since they’ve had any word on movement from the First Order. According to Leia, intel indicates that they appear to have no interest in pursuing the Resistance. Leia delivers this information indifferently and Rey cannot tell whether she believes it or not as the General is a master at concealing her emotions. 

Poe on the other hand, is not. He scoffs loudly enough for all to hear and the eyes of nearly twenty of the most important members of their growing Resistance dart in his direction.

“Care to elaborate, Commander?” Leia remarks. 

He crosses and uncrosses his arms while he appears to debate whether to share. Finn has told her recently that Poe has been different since the Raddus and the events on Crait. Rey didn’t know him before though so she really can’t say. She just listens to Finn and mimics what she’s seen others do to her when they try to appear sympathetic. 

Poe clears his throat. “Our intel also indicates that there is high levels of infighting amongst leadership that has only gotten worse since Snoke died. If we’re going to stand a chance at a strike, the time is now while they’re distracted and fractured.”

Leia doesn’t respond immediately and instead scans the room having already opened the floor. A throat clears next to Rey and she’s shocked for a second to hear the voice coming from Finn who rarely speaks at these meetings.

“I think he’s right. I can’t speak to the top level leadership stuff, that’s not really my wheelhouse but if there was ever a time to consider that the Stormtrooper programming might be vulnerable, it’s now. Despite being kept out of the loop on everything important, almost every trooper I knew was well aware of the bad blood between Hux and Ren. I think they would have killed each other years ago if not for Snoke keeping them in line.”

Rey winces involuntarily at the mention of someone killing Ben. Before she can admonish herself too much she remembers his mother is also here. She looks to Leia but sees her face is a mask of indifference. Rey knows it is not possible that she’s standing here considering a plan to attack and kill her son without feeling something deeply agonizing over it. And yet, her face remains unchanged as the other members of the meeting discuss details and possibilities.

Rey thinks she’ll need to ask Leia someday how she does that. It seems like a rather useful skill for someone like herself. Someone who has so many secrets that she’s only recently started admitting them to even herself. 

When she’s pulled from her reverie she notices almost everyone is looking at her. Panic sets in that she spoke out loud or someone can read her thoughts. It wouldn’t be the first time. But then Poe speaks.

“Well?” 

“Huh? Oh. Sorry. I - I was distracted.”

“I asked what your thoughts are.” Poe repeated.

Her mouth hangs open for a second and it’s as if Leia knows. Rey feels her face heat up when she hears the Generals voice addressing the whole room.

“I think we’ve got a lot of ideas. Some good, some not so. I’ll take the afternoon to think on it and we’ll meet back here tomorrow to go over logistics.” 

Rey scrambles out of the room and heads straight for the hangar. Back to the comfort of solitude in the Falcon when she’s hears Leia calling down the corridor. 

“Rey. Do you have a moment?”

She’s been successfully avoiding Leia for weeks but she knows that it isn’t a question. She turns to catch up and follows her to her quarters.  
________________

Leia’s room is quite plain. Rey doesn’t really know what she expected but this isn’t it. She’s sitting at a small table made for two. There are tea cups, one in front of each chair. She comes back from her small kitchenette with a bottle of something that is decidedly not tea. She pours the dark liquid into Rey’s cup and then into her own before sitting down.

“Corellian Whiskey. Han’s favorite, he loved the stuff.” Rey takes a sip. It burns going down and she scrunches up her face. She didn’t know the man well but this just seems to fit. It tastes like something a flaky scoundrel would drink. She smiles. 

Leia sits back in her chair and lets out a sigh. Rey knows she’s about to partake in a heavy conversation but she wishes Leia would just get on with it because the suspense of not knowing is killing her. 

“So were you gonna tell me the truth?” Rey immediately feels herself start to sweat. She knows. The bond, or whatever it is. Of course she knows. Leia is Force sensitive. She must be able to sense her own son. She’s already breathing fast when Leia continues.

“You thought those plans were idiotic didn’t you?” Rey’s eyebrows furrow before she realizes what’s being discussed. The meeting. 

“Um. Honestly? Yes. I mean our numbers are so small and this is the first time in how long that we haven’t been actively pursued by the First Order. It seems impulsive and unwise to attack them now especially since the Intel is vague at best and it could also be a trap for all we know.” 

Leia studies her for a long while before breaking out into a smile that touches her eyes.

“You would make a great politician you know.” It’s really not a question but an observation.

Rey relaxes and shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” A thought barrels into her mind. That she was invited to rule over the entire galaxy recently. Be in charge of all of the known universe. She shakes her head again but this time to dispel the thought.

When Leia's voice cuts in, it’s lower and sadder than she was just moments ago.

“They want him dead.” Rey says nothing and the silence lingers between them.

“I made so many mistakes. I didn’t trust Ben. I didn’t understand it then. I thought it was inevitable. That the darkness could just take over….like that.” She snaps her fingers. Her face falls. “That once it started, you were helpless to stop it. And the worst part is, I only fooled myself into thinking that for selfish reasons. I wanted to believe that if my father had ended up the way he did, it could only have been because it was inevitable. That he never would have chosen that over my mother. And over us. And I pushed Ben away. I sent him away.” She’s on a bit of a ramble now and Rey thinks she just needs to get it all out in some sort of confession. A silent tear falls and Rey leans forward to say something but stops short because she doesn’t know what could possibly need to be said at this moment. Leia is staring off in the distance. Her eyes are brimming with tears now.

“I did this. I sent him down this path that he can’t come back from and-”

“He killed Snoke.” Rey cuts her off. She doesn't know what possessed her to say it but knowing that she is the only one who has seen the good in him most recently and hasn’t been able to tell a soul feels relevant right now. And just maybe she needed to partake in a confession of her own because it feels so good to finally tell the truth. 

Leia’s eyes snap to hers and she stares. Rey takes a deep breath and wrings her hands in her lap. 

“Snoke ordered him to kill me. Right there in his throne room. I-I really thought he was going to do it. But he killed Snoke instead.” The truth is spilling out of her now and she’s helpless to stop it. 

“He had praetorian guards. Ben and I killed them all….together.”

Leia doesn’t say anything. She just stares and Rey averts her eyes because it’s all too much. Leia’s hand comes up and across the table and Rey gets the hint and reaches for her. She thinks she must have a million questions and she parces out which information she is willing to give, running through everything in her head before Leia surprises her yet again.

“Thank you Rey.” She still has tears in her eyes but the air around them feels lighter. She has a knowing look on her face but Rey can’t quite decipher what it means. She is even smiling. Rey just nods. Leia gives her hand a squeeze and sniffles. 

She stands and Rey does too, getting the impression that this meeting, confession, whatever it might be, is at an end. She walks her to the door and pulls her into a hug. 

Just as Rey is opening the door to leave Leia darts back over to the table and reappears with the bottle of Whiskey. 

“Something tells me you could use this too.” She smirks and Rey smiles. 

“Thank you.”  
___________________

Rey missed dinner because of her visit to Leia's quarters so she heads to the mess hall and barter for leftovers to take back to the Falcon. The cooks are friends of Finn’s because unlike Rey, he is social and interested in people, so they know her by association and provide her with a pretty good haul.

She has fruits, several protein bars, a bag of some kind of chips all tossed into her satchel along with her newly acquired bottle of whiskey.

It’s late when she gets back to the ship so she settles in to eat and since she is well aware that sleep will not come, as it never does, she takes the whiskey out and takes a swig right from the bottle. She knew the drunkards on Jakku would pass out all over the outpost and while she has no desire to develop that sort of habit, she thinks after a day like this one, she can get away with a little self medicating. 

She does her best not to think of the last time she got a restful night's sleep and how much she’d prefer that to booze.

She knows she’s drunk when the same food she’s been eating starts to suddenly taste better and the temperature in her room keeps rising against all logic. 

She kicks off her boots and pulls off her outer robes, leaving her in a light undershirt and her underwear. She pulls her hair free from its buns and settles in to sit on her bed. It’s when the room starts to spin that she knows it's time to stop and let the potion do its work. She is still holding the bottle neck, her feet planted on the floor when she throws herself backwards onto the bed and closes her eyes. 

But the spinning continues even in the darkness. And suddenly she is freezing. She runs her hands along her sheets and to her surprise they are silky and cool. Her eyes fly open and she’s staring at grey durasteel and nothing else. She wills her body to sit up which takes quite a bit of effort in her state and she realizes several things at once. 

Not only can she see him, but she can also see his space. His quarters, his book shelf, his bed. It’s overwhelming her senses. She wasn’t prepared to see him at all but to have the bond open like this in a way it never has, is disorienting. She’s still sitting but turns her body to see Ben facing away from her, side rising and falling in steady breaths. He is curled tightly, protectively, in on himself. 

Rey is very familiar with this kind of sleep because she did it for nearly her whole life on Jakku. She knows what it looks like to sleep in a place you know you are not safe.

She still feels dizzy but it’s dissipating. She is careful not to wake him and takes the rare opportunity to take him in. Just like she did in her room all those weeks ago. 

His hair is falling around his face and she can barely see his eyes. He has the sheets pulled up almost to his chest but she can see that he is not wearing a shirt. Her hazy brain wonders if he’s wearing anything at all before she remembers that he has a knack for hearing her thoughts. She takes one last look and stands quietly, still holding onto her bottle. She stumbles over to his bookshelf and runs her index finger along each title, periodically glancing over to see that he’s still asleep. She marvels at works. She hasn’t see this many actual books in one place ever. It’s archaic. She loves it. 

He has dozens of books about history. Some about military operations. So many language translations she can’t count. She spies a book of poetry and wonders which part of the dark side encourages heartfelt prose. She snickers at her own internal joke. 

“See something you like?” She freezes. She turns to him slowly. Or maybe it just feels slow because she’s definitely still drunk.

His eyes go wider than she’s ever seen and for a second she thinks he must be shocked to have woken to find her here. But then she realizes what she must look like. 

Nearly see through shirt. No pants. Whiskey bottle hanging from her fingers. Hair all a mess. She steels herself, determined not to make this any more awkward than it already is. But before she can speak she sees his eyes scan over her body starting with her face, down down to her feet and all the way back up again. And the shock is replaced with something else. 

His eyes are darker now and she’s very aware that something is passing between them. She thought people drank to numb out feelings but she’s feeling like all the alcohol has done is heighten every single thing that’s happened so far. 

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you naked?” 

He smirks and gives her a knowing look.

“I asked you first.” She rolls her eyes as dramatically as she can muster.

“Yes I believe I am.”.

He grunts in response. “Well I’m not naked.” She wills herself not to react. “So?”

“So….what?”

“I asked if you see anything of interest.” He nods to the bookshelf. He’s halfway to sitting now and it’s causing his ab muscles to flex to keep him in the position he’s in and Rey realizes that she has no semblance of control over how long she fixates on it. She feels her cheeks flush and she turns and grabs the first book she touches. 

“Yes this one. The-” She clears her throat and turns the book to it’s cover. “Mandalore: The Warrior Ways Of The Past.” 

When she looks up he’s sitting against the headboard and smiling. “Huh. That’s a good one.”

She sits on the edge of his bed and tosses the book on the sheet. He’s so far on the other side that there is quite a bit of space between them. He eyes the bottle she is still lugging around and nods his head towards it. Before she can even think about where it came from she’s hiding it up to show him. She immediately realizes that best case scenario, he chastises her for being drunk. Worst case scenario, he has a very visceral reaction to what is clearly his fathers whiskey. She holds her breath. 

He leans over and takes the bottle to inspect it. He doesn’t speak for a very long time. Or maybe its seconds. She is having a really rough go of discerning the passage of time. 

His face falls a little. “The first time I drank this stuff I was nine years old.” She stares at him and tries not to spook him. She feels like this is a big thing that’s happening and for the second time in one day, she doesn’t want to screw up whatever meaningful exchange she’s somehow found herself a part of. 

“We were on our way home and he stopped at a cantina. He always ordered this, anywhere he could get it. He poured me a shot and told me not to tell Leia.” They sit in silence for a few more minutes while he inspects the bottle. 

Then he twists off the cap and takes a swig. She is sobering up in record time but she’s still buzzed enough to let her instincts drive her actions so she clambers over to the center of the bed and sits up against the headboard. She takes the bottle back from him and puts the cap on. She leans over away from him to put it on the nightstand and grabs the book on her way back. 

When she looks at him, he’s making a face she hasn’t seen before. There’s some sort of adoration there that she feels a little overwhelmed with so she quickly holds up the book to show him.

“What is this about?” His eyes narrow hungrily at her and linger on hers for a long while before he finally looks at the book in her hands. 

“Well Rey...” He takes the book from her hands and their fingers graze. They both feel what passes, there is no need to address it aloud anymore. 

“It’s about Mandalore….and the warrior ways of the past.” She snorts and swats at him.

“Thank you for that riveting summary.” 

He grins at her. “Anytime.”

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, Rey sobering up and both of them unwilling to address any reality outside of this bed. The unspoken agreement not to acknowledge that they are enemies and there is a war going on that they are on two sides of. She feels protected from it here, in the silence. 

Ben breaks it. 

“Have you been sleeping any better?”

“No. Just the one night.” She pauses and she won’t look at him. “With you there.”

“What about you? Have you been eating?”

He shakes his head. Her own mention of food makes her remember that she has a satchel full of snacks.

“I’ll be right back.” She says as she’s crawling across his behemoth bed. She turns to look back at him very awkwardly on all fours and his eyes snap up to hers from her backside.

“Huh. Oh yep.” She rolls her eyes at him but when she turns away, her face breaks into a smile. 

She comes back with the entire bag. He looks skeptical. She starts to make her way back to the spot next to him but this time he holds up the sheet for her to climb under so they are both covered. She slides in next to him without even thinking.

She opens the bag and pulls out a starfruit. She starts to peel back the layers to get to the center and his enormous hand covers hers, stopping the process. She looks at him questioningly. 

“No. You are not eating that in my bed. You’re gonna get juice all over the sheets.” She narrows her eyes and her drunken brain weighs the difference between how badly she is craving this fruit and how comfy First Order beds apparently are. 

She shrugs and starts to crawl away from him. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving your bed. You said I can’t eat this here and I really really want to eat it. So….” She shrugs and continues to crawl, dragging her bag and holding the fruit.

She feels enormous hands on the backs of each of her calves and suddenly she’s being yanked backwards fast. 

She shrieks at the sudden jolt. “Ben!”

He pulls her next to him and grabs the fruit using the Force to levitate it. He tugs her back by her shoulders and arranges her the same way she was just sitting. 

“Stay.” Its spoken just a little like a question and she’s reminded of saying the exact same thing to him not that long ago. 

“Give me my fruit.” Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes but he does so with a smirk. He levitates it to her and she snatches it out of the air taking a huge bite. She beams up at him, knowing that the juices are already dripping all over the place. 

She expects a comment but instead his gaze lingers on her mouth. His hand comes up to cradle her face, fingers spanning her neck. His thumb swipes along her whole bottom lip taking the juices with it. 

This is the thing. The thing she has been fighting for months. And now that she’s here in this moment she doesn’t know why she’s been fighting it. She could blame the whiskey or the lack of sleep for making her open up to him, crawl in bed, laugh even. But her most ardent skill, lying to herself, was shattered on the Supremacy when she let the truth of her parents burst from her and now she just can’t seem to get that skill back. 

It’s like the dam broke and every truth wants to spill out of her and make itself known in any way it sees fit. And right now, it’s this. That she wants to be here more than anywhere else. Okay, maybe not here on this ship, with the First Order, but anywhere that Ben is. 

He’s searching her face and his grip on her tightens slightly and she can feel that he is trying to calm the trembling in his hand. She opens the bond just enough to show her willingness and his defences crack just a little at the shock of it. He freezes but it’s too late and she can sense his resolve. She thought his shaking was due to nerves but she can see now that he’s having trouble holding himself back from his urges.

They are inches apart and she leans in. His arm stiffens and holds her in place and before she can speak he leans back and settles against the headboard once again without taking his eyes off her. 

“You’re drunk.” He mutters. She wants to correct him but a quick stock of her senses tells her there’s no point in arguing. She still feels fuzzy and warm and while the room is no longer spinning, it’s not entirely still either. 

She just nods and takes the opportunity to look at him. Really look at him in a way she’s only been able to while he sleeps. His face is soft and the hard creases that usually adorn his brow when they’re fighting or arguing are gone. He looks younger than usual and it makes her want to hold him. 

She is still drunk though so she has to make a concerted effort to steer her thoughts away from the obscene when she focuses a little too much on his lips or his chest. She’s sure he can hear her but he’s kind enough not to mention it. He’s sitting still, letting her catalogue him and for some reason this makes her heart ache a little. It’s as if he knows she needs this. 

Finally when she’s satisfied that she’s memorized as much as she can, she leans over into her bag and takes out a protein bar. She hands it to him but he hesitates.

“What’s this for?”

“Eat.” He shakes his head.

“Those are yours. I’ve got plenty of options here.”

“Yes, but you don’t eat any of them. You told me yourself. Plus I hate these things.” She smiles and thrusts it at him.

He eyes it and with the walls of the bond crumbling due to a lack of effort to maintain them on both of their sides as well as her drunken haze, she can sense his affection for her coming through in waves. 

He opens the bar and finishes it in three bits since they are relatively small. When he’s done he tosses the wrapper on his floor and sits up on his knees. He places a hand on each of her calves and she can sense what he’s going to do just before he yanks her down the bed until she’s laying down fully. He covers her with his sheet and blanket this time and sits back up against his bed.

She looks up at him and realizes that she’s becoming familiar with his looks. She’s seen this one in particular in a lift and also from the inside of an escape pod. He’s regarding her with something she cannot quite name.

“Sleep.” 

“So bossy. I wish it were as simple as being commanded but it just doesn’t work that way.” She shrugs under the covers. 

He pauses and then eyes the book before leaning over her to reach for it. This gives her a very close view of his stomach but more importantly, he;s so close that she is assaulted with the way he smells. Clean and musky and a lot like leather. This shouldn’t surprise her since he wears it all day but she is surprised by her body’s reaction to it. She closes her eyes to stop the flood of images her mind is conjuring up at an incredible speed. 

His body goes stock still over her and she can feel and hear him take a deep breath and empty his lungs before grabbing the book and returning to sit. 

She pulls the covers up over her shoulders so that just her head is peaking up at him. He opens the book to the first page and clears his throat. 

“To understand Mandalore you must first understand the ancient Mandalorian ways. The-”

“What are you doing?”

“Shhh. I’m going to bore you to sleep with inane facts about ancient cultures.” His lips turn up in a half smile.

“Aah.” She’s already yawning. Her voice is laced with sleep. “Who’s to say I won’t let you read the whole book out of intrigue and fascination?” She teases. 

She sees it then. She knows that it slips through unwarranted in almost a flash before he can stop it. 

A memory. A small boy with black hair and light robes surrounded by books and hand written notes. There are loud noises of other children taunting him and kicking the books around the grass before running off to play. With no more context the connection snaps shut and she jolts a little. 

Before she can think about what she’s doing, she lays her head in his lap. His arms come up high in the air instinctively and she glances up just in time to see the look of surprise on his face. She situates herself so that she’s lying on her side and looking towards the end of his bed. 

As he begins reading again, his other hand settles on her temple to card his fingers through her hair. Her eyes drift shut at the feeling. No one has ever cared for her in this way. She supposes perhaps it might be something a parent would do for a young child or a friend or lover would do to show that they care. She wonders where Ben learned it. If someone, maybe Leia, took care of him this way once. 

She thinks of all the things she missed when she was alone on Jakku. She could only ever worry about food. It consumed her thoughts. She can hear the sound of his voice reading about Mandalorian Crusaders and their conquests. It lulls her. It feels like floating. 

She thinks of Ben being young and having all the food he could possibly ever need. The son of a Senator and famous Smuggler would never go hungry. He’d never want for anything. But now he doesn’t eat.

But sleep. Sleep didn’t come to him. Not the way it did to her. She always slept on Jakku, her body taking control of her exhaustion. He told her once that the voices went back as far as he can remember. Her eyes are closed now and till she can hear his deep soothing baritone telling her about the Mandalorians’ search for Jedi artifacts. 

She is a slow reader. It frustrates her but she manages. Ben on the other hand reads in a pace that stories are meant to be told. 

Just as she starts to drift off to the sleep she’s been chasing for months, she focuses one last time on his hypnotizing voice. His fingers gently grazing her scalp and the feel of his thigh muscle that she’s gripping in a foolish effort to anchor herself here, hoping the Force will not send her back. She’s not ready. Not ready to be alone, surrounded by people. 

With her last vestiges of effort she interrupts him.

“Ben?” His hands stop moving.

“Yes?”

“Will you promise me that you’ll eat? From now on even when I’m not here…..even when it’s hard.” She keeps her eyes closed and waits. 

He lets out a deep sigh. “Yeah. I promise. Will you promise me something too?”

She already knows what he’s going to say so she answers

“I’ll try to sleep. I’ll do what I can but sometimes, it’s just too difficult.”

“No. It’s not that. I understand that.” She scrunches up her nose and turns upwards to face him.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.’ He hesitates. “If I’m not around.You’ll take care of yourself.” She thinks this is easy enough to promise since she’s inclined to always at least try to keep herself and her friends safe. And considering how rarely the bond opens, he’s almost never around. 

She nods. “Okay. I promise.”

“Good. Now Sleep.”

She repositions herself and he picks up where he left off. She is once again lulled back into the throes of sleep and the feeling returns once again. That comfort of having him here with her is hanging heavy in the air but she’s too tired to try to figure out what the feeling is.

She’ll let him believe that he’s put her to sleep by boring her with his almost academic book collection. But the truth is, the pull to subconsciousness is guided by the sound of his voice. He could be reading or saying anything, it wouldn’t matter to her. 

Just as she’s pulled under, the Force whispers the word she’s been searching for this whole time.

HomeHomeHome.

\---------------

54 ABY - Outer Rim Territories

_She has been sleeping just fine for a long time now. It’s been years since she’s struggled with it. But tonight, rest just won’t come. She thinks of the Sith and Jedi artifacts they’ve collected and turned over to the New Republic’s archeologists so far and how each one felt like a step closer to understanding. It feels like doing her part to help prevent history from repeating itself as it always has. It’s balance and purpose and the Force tells her everyday that this is where she’s meant to be. This is what she is meant to do._

_Still, she worries. Mostly about him. But herself too. She rolls out of bed, careful not to wake her companion and pads towards the cockpit. The descent took longer than they anticipated and they realized they could sleep the night through before having to land._

_She pulls up the comm system and punches in the familiar numbers, still secret after all this time. She doesn’t really think anyone would care where he is now but there are some who might and this is still the most famous ship in the Galaxy sending interstellar transmissions directly to him, so it’s safest just to use the coded line._

_She taps out a quick message, answering the questions like muscle memory._

__**Food stocks are fine. Still hate protein bars, but we’re eating them  
**Getting plenty of sleep  
**Safe as I can be in this old rust bucket  
******

********** **

********** **

_She hit’s send, heads down the hall and slips back into bed without a sound._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this story was meant to be a lot more angsty. And there will definitely still be some angst but with everything in the world going to shit, every time I went to write, it just came out...less so. It's like my brain was protesting contributing more dark shit :)


End file.
